


contentment

by khayr



Category: Dredd (2012)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, otp: you look ready, there is so much fluff in here u have been warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-10 13:44:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khayr/pseuds/khayr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’s still not used to all of his mannerisms and rituals, but she likes to think that she’s catching on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	contentment

She’s still not used to all of his mannerisms and rituals, but she likes to think that she’s catching on. On the occasion where she’s curled in his bed and not hers she tries to guess how many reports he’ll start and leave half finished, how long he’ll procrastinate on owed paperwork until he gives up and joins her instead. Anderson spends that time buried in the sheets, surrounded with that spicy scent of _him_ that’s so achingly familiar to her now.   
  
There’s a pattern involved here; the last of Dredd’s work gear comes off first before he disappears into the other room again. It had taken her a while to figure it all out, but she knew well enough now. Door locked (he checks this twice, she knows). Tablet off, lest he lose what little bits of paperwork he’s actually managed to get done. Lastly he sets his alarm for the next shift, although she knows he’ll be up well before it actually goes off. He always is.  
  
Then comes the hesitation.  
  
It’s always the same here. She senses uncertainty in him, but he manages to crush it to the back of his mind each time. Mere moments pass and the mattress finally sinks under his added weight. Often enough she feigns sleep to see what he’ll do; those are the nights where he settles without incident and eventually drifts off. Tonight a soft noise of contentment escapes her lungs when his skin grazes hers and he pauses as if contemplating his next move.   
  
She can almost hear the gears turning in his head before he gives in, shifting himself closer to her and draping an arm over her waist. After a bit of wiggling into a better position she presses her back into his chest, ignoring the quiet grunt it earns from him. The sound is muffled; he’s already buried his face into her hair and allowed himself to relax. There’s comfort in the quiet that hangs between them. Tomorrow could be the last day they suit up and hit the streets; it’s a fate every Judge has long since accepted. Here though, everything is all right for now.


End file.
